


In berfect Morld

by SyllxMatte



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Post-Same As It Never Was, SAINW, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyllxMatte/pseuds/SyllxMatte
Summary: After their deaths turtle's souls were reborn in virtual world, New York replica server.Origin AU story for SAINW turtles. Because no comics hero stays dead.





	1. A Good Day

Hello.  
I'm Donatello.

Today is a good day.  
As are most of days here.  
Some coffee, some light tinkering to start my day and then out to find a job for today or to partake in some scavenging.  
Today I was lucky in that regard.  
I've stumbled upon a flock of tourists right away.

I'm showing them around now.

Not many know these places as well as I do.

I will be even as bold as to say: nobody knows the New York as well as I.

Not that these tourists are interested in monuments, historical sites, and famous stores.

Oh no-no.

What are they interested are "hidden harvest" places. Hidden places that not many discovered.

I call them hidden but really most of them are in plain sight.

You see, nowadays everybody has this app on their phone. You mark where you've been on it. With it you can win pretty neat prizes and coupons. Different places have different values attached to them. Some of these places are completely random.  
And if you are lucky, you can hit a jackpot in some backyard alley two steps to the left from the second trash can.

If you are lucky or have such a good guide as me.

Right now we near our next stop, so I turn around to the mixed crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Soon we will be near our next spot, AG-24. It will work only for the first two to activate it in the next 1067 hours. Please, next two in the rotation come forward."

Excited murmur in my small crowd of today's followers. Two of them come forward. I gently push them into correct spot and soon enough we are ready to move on with the "tour".

* * *

 

In the end we are in the tunnel, on the pavement sidewalk. Cars pass us by, train shakes the ground above.

The tour is finished and I slowly move to the tail of the crowd, until I am the one following them.

There will be a hidden alcove here in three steps, two, one!

I quietly, using my stealth, hide in the alcove and vanish from their sight.

They continue forward for some time before surprised exclaims erupt:  
"Wait, where is..?"

Some only spare a searching look around even as they continue move forward, some stop to search for me. I don't worry: they won't find me. My ninja stealth never lets me down.

Usually I just go away.  
But today... today I decided to follow them and listen to the conversations for a bit.  
These ninja skills can be useful even in modern New Your surroundings.

Three of the tourists argue about me:  
"Oh, let it go. He is obviously one of these.. official folks from the game. We are lucky we run into him. And that he stayed around for so long, even with the payment."

"Yeah, I've got like 3 new spots unlocked! Man, it would have taken me a year to find them by myself!"

The guy who started argument grumbles:  
"He probably kept a lot more to himself. That guy never showed us his phone. He probably has like 50 spots across New Your all to himself. If we only got together and taken him by surprise... There is no way he could have held up against a crowd, no matter how bulky he looked."

Bulky? I don't look bulky, do I?

"Not just bulky. Did you see how he moves? Or his weapon? Let it go man, and be glad he shared. Lets go, I know how to get to the mall from here."

They leave, and I follow.  
I am curious turtle, and one of them is...

* * *

 

Three hours later I am still following him.

Here he is, sitting at a cafe.  
Empty place, cheap tables, cheaper lighting and a menu.

Those that have their own home go to their homes. The rest goes to a hotel. But a few that haven't bothered with buying a resting place for themselves make do with these 24/7 open public places.

As I watch he puts his head down on his folded on the table hands, as if to sleep, and starts to glow green.

A sign that owner of this avatar went away without properly turning off their virtual gear.

I order a coffee from a NPC and sit down at the same table, across from him.

He is a turtle, same as me. A different colour of scales, orange bandana. Slightly different, but basic design obviously is the same.

I sit, sipping my coffee and watching glowing text above his head.

So he is named Michelangelo...

For hours I sit there in the empty cafe across some afk avatar.

There is no point to stay here, really.

I've been living in New York for a long time, and never seen anything interesting happen with afk players.  
I know nothing will happen. I've calculated the chances long ago. And let me say there is a depressing amount of zero's before any significant digit appears.

There is no point to stay here, really.

But his design looks the same as mine. I am sure it is the same basic model.

I never before met another turtle.  
So maybe.. Maybe I can dream a little.

There is no point to stay here, but I stay anyway.

My third coffee is long gone when his text changes. It is Mikey now resting before me. A blink - and it is Mike... Michael...before it settles back to Michelangelo again.

I carefully put my cup down on the table.  
I don't dare to blink anymore. I can't allow myself to miss any moment of what is happening.

Several minutes pass before he twitches. Then twitches again and again. Arches back on his plastic chair as far as his shell would allow him.

(I note that if the chair was real it shouldn't been able to bear his weight - turtle of his size must weight 904 lbs - or 400 kilos - with its shell. The chair should not been able to bear his still weight, much less his spasms.)

His legs suddenly are straight under the table, arms hanging down by his sides, and head tilts to the side with a sharp crack. It looks unnatural and painful.

He still glows green. Avatar's owner didn't return yet.

Turtle is silent. I sit and curiously watch, hands clenched together before my mouth. Empty cup sits before me.

His eyes are wide open. His mouth is stretched even wider: all brick-like teeth bared at once in spasmodic grimace, but by upturned corners of his mouth I can tell that this is supposed to be a smile. A wide, wide smile perhaps.

(This one is going to be a joker, I just can tell it.)

He stopped moving. But I think I see a spark - a hint of a concious in his eyes. Or so I hope.  
I should not hope, but still...

Carefully, without tearing my eyes from him, I put my hands down on the table.  
I stand up. Push my chair back under the table.

I step aside and try calling him over.  
"Hello, here. Come on. Let's go. It is not safe here." I follow this with a hand gesture.

I think he twitched again. I hope he twitched in reply to my invitation.  
I tear my eyes from him and try to not hope too much.  
It is amazing how high hope can soar in just a few moments.

I take a step, two, three steps and wait patiently.

I don't dare to turn around.

After a few moments I hear a metallic scrape of the chair on the tile floor. (Another bug, plastic across wooden floor should make different sound, I know it. I know it somehow from somewhere.)

I take another and another and another step towards door. When I am in entrance I dare to look back.

He follows me. His movements are jerky and unnatural, one leg is dragging, head bent to lie on his shoulder and soft snout still stretched in wide parody of a smile.

This is nothing. He will learn to act normal.

I learned, after all.

I step outside.

He follows.

I look up at the night sky and smile.  
It is evening, New York twilight.

This is the best day of my life so far.

I step forward, shallowed by artificial shadows. Michelangelo follows.

Today is awesomely good.


	2. A new voice at home

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I can't help but to yell.

Hello.  
I am Michelangelo and currently I am learning to break-dance.  
That dude on the TV Don set for me has some real moves!  
A turtle simply has to know them!  
And Donnie said I should work on my excalibur.

All went well until guy on TV jumped on his back and started to spin on it.

I did it too. Easily.  
Too easily as it turned out.  
I can not stop this spinning now!  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Heeeeeeeeeelllllp meeeeeeee!"

"What? Mikey!"

I feel a sweet salvation of Don's foot on my plastron. World does not stop spinning but I am sure I do. I stopped spinning, right?

"Come on, Mikey, come out. You are not spinning anymore." I hear Donatello.

Right.  
Cautiously I come out of my shell.  
"I don't know, Donnie, the world won't stop."  
Now he looks worried. He squats down near me and asks:  
"For how long were you spinning?"

I glance on the TV. The dude is long gone and now there is a chick with purple hair instead.  
"Ehhh...This chick and half of a guy before her ago."

"What!? Mikey!"

Jezz. He sure knows how to sound accusing and worried at the same time.

"You should have called earlier. I shouldn't left you alone. You are not ready. And these glitches too... it is like no friction force exists as long as object is slightly round. No way to explain this...And you are only a few days as..." he starts to mutter.

Uh-oh. I need to stop this before I get sofa-bound again. A week of pampering was nice but so restrictive!

A turtle needs his freedom I tell you!

"Nah, Donnie, I am aaaa-all ok. No need to look after me anymore! Look!" I quickly stand up. The world still slightly spins but D must not know of this. "All OK! So no need to keep eye on me. Yesterday I went out - all alone, and nothing happened!"

"You went out?!"

Uh-oh.  
I forgot he was not supposed to know about this. For the first few days when we came here he was so worried, kept closing curtains, spent hours "coaching me" (I loved this "coaching". I got to choose a movie and then we would act some part of it), he rarely went out and only recently agreed to leave me at home alone.

I did not mean to go out yesterday but it happened.

I watch as he inhales deeply and slowly sits down on the sofa.  
"No, no. It's allright. Come here, sit down. Tell me how did it go. You did not forget the cream, right?"

"Of course not, dude! You only mentioned how it is important, like, twenty times."

He smiles. I sit down across from him and start telling him about my adventure.

* * *

 

We live in Donatello's apartment for several weeks already. Together.

Donnie is pretty cool host. I can't complain.

He is patient, and very good at explaining things. When he remembers to not talk science.

When we just came here, on that first night, he sat me down and told me why we went in suuuch long way and why we must be careful. Apparently we are not supposed to be all glowy. Or glowy and moving.

I think.

I do remember him explaining how to hide our awesome glowiness. Apparently he made a special cream to hide our green color. The glowing green, not the scales green. (He says is is a cream. I say it is a CoverOil. It makes our scales all sleek. Nobody will be able to grab and hold me now!)

And he also asked me plenty of questions!

Easy ones, like my name (duh, I saw myself in the mirror. I can read!), my likes (easy: pizza, skating, comics and TV) and dislikes (people leaving), and even easier questions: where do I come from (no idea!), who is my family (no idea, dude!) and if I remember anything beyond waking up at the cafe (nope).

We talked well into morning.  
Then went to sleep, then talked more. But with pizza this time.

Man, I knew that I like pizza, but I had no idea how tasty it actually is!  
Food for gods it is I tell you!

 

* * *

 

On the third day I discovered that small apartment actually is far from small.

Get this: it has a secret room!

Or more like a secret room has not-secret apartment. "The Lab" he calls it.

Opening and closing secret entrance is so fun!  
Although Donatello gets all twitchy if I do it too often.

Don has a lot of things in there, but I am not allowed to touch them.  
And to go near them.  
Not anymore. (Ooops)

But I am allowed to do whatever I want on kitchen!

* * *

* * *

 

"Knock, knock, you about to get shell shocked,  
Knock, KNOCK, YOU ABOUT TO GET!"  
Wait, I think I heard actual knock.

I turn off the water and put my microphone - I mean shower head - back into its place.

"Yes?" I yell.

Into bathroom peeks Dee. He looks unsure.

"Ahem. I was wondering do you need any help with this if you are finished?" - he gestures at CoverOil jar in his hands.

Oh, this is perfect! Applying it on my shell always is such a pain. Especially if I try it with my left hand.

"Sure!"  
I sit down on the edge of the bathtub and he starts applying the cream on my shell.

"So I was wondering about the name. Maybe it would be better to call it GlowGrease?"

Hmmmm, GlowGrease does have a nice ring to it. But still not as nice as Coveroil. And! Who does Don thinks is a naming genius here? He?

"Nope! It is Coveroil, trademarked and all. I will write it on all your jars."

"Don't touch things in the lab!"

Man, he sounds so alarmed.

"Okay. You sign them."

"Thank you. I will. And when I will invent next version of it we will call it GlowGrease."

"Hmm-hmm. We will see."

He finished with my shell and I start applying Coveroil on myself.

Today I am going out.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

a/n:

  
Mikey must not know about this.  
But.

One day, when the turtles already were down for the night the situation really struck Donatello. Like a delayed reaction.

Suddenly it became apparent that yes, Mikey is a self-aware avatar for real (only one such avatar besides Don!), and that no, he is not leaving, he is not planning on going anywhere.

Donnie could not believe his luck.

For a long time he was just laying on the sofa, shaking, consumed by swirling emotions.

And when Mikey was deeply asleep, Donatello shifted closer to Michaelangelo's side, reached up and clenched edge of Mikey's side-shell.

Mikey was real.

Donnie pressed closely to the shell and cried for long hours.

Over thirty years of hiding alone in this world can take its tool on a turtle.


	3. Across the City

I dont know how or why it happened.

I always came here. To the dojo.  
Like a clock, always at the same time.  
If I was lucky I would get some guys to follow me.

I always said same words to him.  
His answer always was the same.  
And he always walked me through same katas and same meditation tecniques.

But...

That day...  
I stood up from my resting place.

I came here. To the dojo.  
I said same words as always:

"Hello Sensei."

And he answered to me as always:  
"Hello Leonardo. Are you ready to start your training?"

I nodded.  
"Hai."  
As I always did.

I went through same exercises.

Only this time the world felt different.  
I looked at the dojo, at the weapons on the walls, at floor mats, and I... I actually saw them.  
I actually was processing what I am seeing. What I am feeling. What I am thinking.

I had thoughts. For the first time I had thoughts.

That day something happened and I was not the same anymore.

* * *

  
From the outside perspective it probably looked like nothing changed.  
I kept coming to the Sensei's dojo each morning.

I kept bringing to him new students.

Each day we did the same exercises.

Other students tended to disregard me.  
And they showed little - if any - respect to the Sensei.  
In return, I did not pay much attention to them.

They would leave once they gathered enough - as they think - training time.

They never managed to be as good as I.

After some time I asked Sensei to make my exercises harder, and we moved onto next level of the exercises.  
And then the next level.. and the next...

I loved my predictable schedule.  
I loved slowly learning new and new techniques of being a ninja.  
Most of them were disappointingly easy. As if I already knew them.

After I finish exercises for the day we have a meal and I leave for the city.

I enjoyed seeing the sights of my city. I liked making sure my city is safe.  
I enjoyed talking to people there. Each person always had something for me to do or a story to share.

Of course there were other kind of people, ones that always rush somewhere. They rarely share their stories and they seem to have no patience to have a normal conversation at all.

They also tend to disappear into their homes for a long periods of time.

When I upped my stealth I followed several of these people. I watched them. When left alone, when they are hidden from other's sight, these people cease to move and start to glow green. Or disappear altogether.

They disturb me.  
Real people don't disappear.

Now I try to ignore them.  
I prefer talking to real people, who always stay at their places and never glow.

Like me.  
Like Sensei.

* * *

I loved my predictable schedule.  
And if it felt empty and meaningless - well, I quickly learned to bury these (new) feelings.

  
I enjoyed the schedule until it was disturbed.

  
By another turtle.  
Turtles.


	4. Surely

Ninja training event brought unusually high amount of students for the Sensei.  
This whole week, every training session was full.

Yet still, only few were advanced to the next level.

And even fewer behaved appropriately towards the Master.

Among those that did, particularly noticeable were two turtles.

Their form was... almost perfect. For their level. I was thinking of allowing them to advance two or three levels higher.

Of course I thought so before one of them - Michelangelo - started to annoy me. He was following me the whole day yesterday. Attempting to follow me. His ninja stealth level was nowhere near mine.

And today, after training session, he grabbed his partner and dragged him to "introduce" us.

I try to properly answer the turtle but he keeps interrupting me by poking. As is a proper way of talking I have to start my sentence all over again each time he interrupts me with his pokes.

"Ho-How can - Ho-How can I hel- How can I help you?"

"Wow. This is so cool, bro! You are like a real NPC! You don't even blink."

I sigh. His comment does not answer my query at all. The shell he wants from me?  
"How can I help you?"

"Eheh, I just wanted to introduce you to my bro. Leo, this is Donatello - or Donnie, Don this is Leonardo."

"Hello Leonardo."  
"Hello Donatello."

I stand there awaiting a further explanation from them, occasionally shifting or checking my weapons, as is proper way of behaving when conversation is idle.

"I don't know Mikey. So far I see nothing that shows that he is not a NPC. I would even say that he acts remarkably like NPC."

I am standing right here! I angrily add to my "weapon checking" actual unsheathing of my swords. And putting them back.

"Aww, man. Don't you trust me? He's got the vibe, I tell you. He is like us."

"How can I help you?"

"...kinda like us. He needs a crash course in the humanity."

" Well, if you are sure Mikey... A few tests won't hurt I suppose."

Turtle Donatello was not looking sure at all. He was wringing his hands - a gesture that I recently learned meant person is nervous and unsure. But he agreed with turtle Michelangelo.

And so we left the dojo.  
For today.


	5. Fighter

 

"And today's champion is - Raphael!" - shouts referee somewhere behind blinding projectors. Even if I tried to squint and looked for him or the Master - I wouldn't be able to see them in the smoke filled darkness behind the lights.

Noise is deafening.

I hungrily take in the sights of the arena, of my opponent lying in the growing puddle of blood, of metallic cans being thrown at us. No matter how much I _tried_  to stretch my fights, they always were over far too soon.

Any moment now.  
Referee continues to say something - I don't even try to follow.

Any moment now.  
I focus on being here, being alive. On being able to _breathe_.

Any mome-  
Darkness. Complete silence.

And I feel myself slipping into nothingness.

* * *

 

I am lying on concrete floor. My side hurts like it was pierced by the hot iron.

It does not matter. What matters is...

I look forward. To a figure lying just a few steps away.

I try to crawl. When crawling does not work I start to drag myself across the floor.  
Drag myself towards lying figure in black.

Closer... All I see is one green leg, one green arm. A scared face with dark eyeglasses. Battered plastron. Glossy black leather.

I see rapidly growing puddle of red red blood.

I almost reached him when my strength leaves me completely and I topple over.  
But I am still reaching.  
I am still hoping.  
We survived so much. For so long. No way now he is...  
I need to be with him.  
All I see is black, green and red.  
So why do all I think when I see him is "blue"?  
"N..no, Leo!"

I blink...

* * *

 

I blink away my dream and nothingness to see that I am standing in the left corner of an arena. A different one this time.  
It is time for another combat performance for my Master.  
Smells and noise are stunning after complete absence smell, hearing and touch.  
I have to take a moment to adjust to all of it. In that time referee already said his bit.  
Whatever.  
I don't care what he said.  
It is always the same.

My Master summons me only to pound whoever is unlucky enough to be on the opposite side of the arena.

When I see my opponent my heart plummets down. This wimp won't last even a few minutes.

A quick fight and then I will be back to the darkness filled with flashes of reaching towards someone obviously dead.

Despair and anger fills me like a tornado of fire.

This life is!  
"Fight" shouts referee but I am already charging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I made Raphael into a Pokemon-like pet. Sorry not sorry. XD


	6. To change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo's POV.

It was surprisingly easy.  
To act, to behave as these two - other - turtles.  
As if I already knew how to.  
It came to me as natural as ninjutsu.

But despite that I still could see that the turtle Donatello was wary of trusting me.

It took a week of being their acquaintance (or a friend?) before he agreed - agreed with the turtle Michelangelo, not with me (I did not care either way) - to show me their home. I have a suspicion that a possibility of using some of his equipment on me sealed the deal.

I followed Michelangelo's tug of my arm across the streets, across the city towards their home.

In the end we arrived to - ...

Not only was it too small, but... The place was too open. Walls were too thin, I could accidentally break them if I were not careful. Window was a complete security hazard. I won't even mention the open staircase.

No, just no. This place is unacceptable for living of my acquaintances (my students)(my only friends)!

And I know just the way to fix this. After all I had a few cards up my metaphorical sleeve.

Michelangelo was showing me around their cheap one-room apartment when I spoke up:

"Turtle Donatello, turtle Michelangelo are invited into the guild "Hamato Clan". Invitations sent. Invitations accepted. Donatello, Michelangelo, welcome to the Hamato clan."  
I heard alarmed "What?!?" but I was not finished.  
"Activating a quest "Hidden Lair". "

Michelangelo and Donatello come to me frantically waving their hands to stop me and asking to explain but explaining is not included in my obligations. They were sent debriefings - they can read quest parameters if they wish to know. I had a more important task right now.

Now it was my time to grab a hand and tow a turtle across the whole city. The other one followed.

As we walked I pondered.  
For so long I resisted this pull to initialise into a Hamato Clan. Some Sensei's student would trigger Clan's activation sequence and I would be compelled to invite them into my clan. But I always resisted. Successfully.  
Till now.  
These turtles did not even act out any triggers! I myself decided to initiate Hamato Clan.

Trek was long but it was worth it when I presented two turtles their new headquarters.

As I watched their amazed expressions taking in the Hamato lair I was as struck with realisation:  
Now I am a Head of this small new clan. A guild leader.  
I am responsible to make sure our clan is safe. To make sure it is prospering.  
And looking at exited faces of my new... clan brothers. I know...I won't regret becoming a part of this clan.

 

* * *

 

It is my job to make sure my clan is safe. For that they must - if not follow then at least take some time to consider my orders.

Immediately we hit a struggle with this.  
They seem to not realise just how dangerous this city is!

Well, it is expected - unlike me they did not spend their whole nights patrolling the city.  
Claiming that this world is not dangerous at all in crime regards is understandable. Acceptable even. For now. (Soon I will show them what I see far too often.)  
But while we were discussing this, a new bit of information came up. Them, claiming that this world is not real... claiming that everything here is a safe simulation - and that only real danger for us is users discovering our true existence. Users who are supposed to be actual "real" people that can "erase" us.

This is unacceptable. This world's view, this image painted by my clan brothers... just did not fit.

I did not believe them.

 But they kept pilling their evidence on me. One after another, until I was buried and pinned under its weight. Until I could not deny their reasoning.

Until I could not deny their truth.

 

* * *

 

..This world is not real.

What is my life then? What are _our_  lifes?

..Does it mean the crimes I stopped were actually... not crimes at all?  
  
My first thought was to go to talk to the Sensei - until I realised that all this means that he is not real either.

(I don't think I am ready - I don't think I can accept this world view.)

After my clan brother's revelation I was as if in a dream.  
For almost two weeks I did not show up for my ninja practices. I did not speak with the locals. I did not patrol the city.

I spent my time just.. relentlessly walking across the city. Taking in (fake!) sights: fake buildings, fake monuments, fake trees, fake birds, fake sunsets... fake people. I was drowning in this fabricated reality.

Days and nights I spent aimlessly trekking the city streets.

I don't know if I ever would have stopped if one day my clan brother Donatello haven't found me.

"Leo, Leonardo. Wait, I think we may have explained this incorrectly. Wait, Leo!" He pleaded me, catching me by my arm.

I blankly looked at his glistering skin, a wide turtle palm, fingers wrapping around my whist. I was so lost...  
I stopped my trek to listen to him.

"Okay, good, you stopped. That is good. Now, Donatello don't screw this up." He seemed to talk to himself. I waited. It was not like I had anywhere particular to be at the moment. (Everything was fake).

 

* * *

 

Turns out while many things were just imitations, most of the important things - were real just enough to matter.

(As I see it the most real ones in this world for me are my clan brothers. I grabbed this straw like a drowning man.)

My brothers accompanied me to a few of my usual patrols to check what do I mean by (possibly fake) rampant crime within this city.

I did not think I would ever be relieved to hear that those are real crimes going on in my city. It was a relief. Like these patrols were... some integral part of me.

 

* * *

 

Days passed.

We argued, we fought, we had fun. Had quiet, personal times too.

Life was good.

 

* * *

 

Even through I am a "self aware NPC" as Donnie a few times described me, and should be completely in control of my actions and thoughts sometimes the compulsion to go along my original programming was just... too strong.

I would not even notice as it would sneak on me. Not until after the fact.

As today.

"Oh no, Leo! Again?" I hear Mikey's disappointed voice.

I sheepishly rub the back of my head and apologetically smile at him. We planned to make today's training special, much more fun and different from usual kata practices and sparring. And Donatello wanted to test his new pet against us in a fight.

It was supposed to be a private training, only with my brothers.

I turn around to face a crowd of the new students I managed to gather on my way to the Dojo. I just couldn't help myself. For so long gathering new students for the (fake!) Sensei was my only reason for the existence.

Well, nothing can be done with this now. I better go with the flow.  
I smile to the crowd. I had a role to act out.

"Welcome into our Hidden Dojo. Here, the Greatest Sensei of all time will teach you a secret art of ninja. I will help him. Please take your places on the mats."

I hear my brothers sadly sign and take their places at the mats. I try to not duck my head down into shell from the shame.

It seems our special training is cancelled for today.

If only I had a better self control!  
(I must meditate more to strengthen my willpower.)

 


	7. Caged

"Pssst. Raph..Raphael!"

I turn around to face the back of my cage.  
A cage was a new thing.  
This time Masters wanted to showcase their pets before the fights. I suppose they wanted for people to see what they are placing their bets on. All today's fighters were placed into cages lined in rows on pedestals.

I was taken aback when I saw who was calling me. Their design was exactly same as mine. It was a turtle - a turtle in company of two other same-looking turtles. Never before I saw an another turtle looking like me. Two were facing me, and one was turned with his shell to me. He seemed to be on a lookout.

Interested, I came closer to them. I grabbed cage's rods and leaned down to look at them.

A turtle in purple mask started to rattle out:  
"Raphael. Quick, listen here: if you want out of your situation, then lose to this fighter." He showed me a picture of a metallic turtle. Grey, green and yellow were its colours. His pet I suppose.

I scowled. Cheaters looking for an easy money. And dumb ones too. I shoved myself away from the cage's bars.

"If you wanna win, you are asking a wrong person to throw in the towel. My Master is over there." I point to the front of the cage where the guy is busy talking to someone. "He's the one who commands me - the one who controls how I actually fight. How I move." How stupid are they that I find myself in need to explain to them basics of pet's fights.

The turtle scowls.  
"Please. I'm not an idiot. I saw how you fight, your moves, and I saw how your "Master" was playing at "commanding" you. He was just pretending to control you."

Well. This was a first. Nobody before noticed.  
Still, asking me to wield. To throw out my fight... I wonder what he gets out of this deal. Probably shit-ton of money placed on his metal pet.

He seems have read my mind and says:  
"Please. I don't care about money - I just want to help you."

As if I would believe the first turtle to say that to me.  
And how losing would help me exactly?!? The best outcome that would happen - my Master would rant at me for hours. The worst - he would just get a better pet and will stop using me altogether. Even in battles. An eternity of nothingness and dreams is what awaits me if I lose to this turtle's metal pet.

I think my face conveyed my disbelief quite clearly.

A turtle with orange headband spoke up.  
"Wait, Don, maybe he does not know the prize in this competition."

"Right, Mikey."  
Seeing how this is not going to be resolved as quickly as they had hoped to the turtle in purple started again more slowly:  
"Hello. I'm Donatello and this is Michelangelo. We are trying to get you out from under control of your Master. For that we offer for one of us to become your new Master. For that we would need you to lose to our pet - Metalhead. And to nobody else. We are betting on you being able to win all your other fights. The prize in this competition is ownership of any - or all pets that your pet beat."  
The turtle on lookout started to look increasingly more worried as more and more people slowly filled the stadium. I suppose they are truly on a time limit here.  
"We are promising not to dismiss you unless you will ask us to. We wouldn't make you fight for us or anything. You will be free to do whatever you wish to."

Well, now it sounded too good to be true.  
I open my mouth to ask what the catch is and why should I trust them when other turtle who was on the lookout turned back to us.  
"Don, Mikey, what is taking you so long? We already are here longer than we planned for!"  
The turtle wore a blue mask. Blue. His scales shade was exactly the same as in my dreams. And his face...  
"..Leo?" I whispered.

"We are _trying_ to be quick, Leo, but he wouldn't agree just to.." started turtle Donatello.

"You say you can get me out?" I interrupt him not taking my eyes from the turtle in blue. "I agree. I will lose. One fight."

What is life without taking some risks, right?  
  


* * *

a/n: Donatello does get a shit-ton of money.


	8. Just life

They held true to their word.

After some juggling of ownership rights a turtle Michelangelo was my new Master.

No orders, no dismissing me from this world. He never overstepped the bound they set for themselves.  
And let me tell you I tested them pretty well with my acting up.  
Michelangelo was not one to take random shoves and nudges without any retaliation. But his payback always came in the way of pranks.  
Unless we were training. Then the 'chucks were his payback.

But.  
He never dismissed me into nothingness.

To my surprise I was readily accepted into Hamato Clan guild as a full rightful member.

It was unexpected.

When I asked how is it even possible, our leader, Leonardo - as was his full name - gave me no explanations.

* * *

In regards of Leo things did not go as well as I had hoped.

No matter how I tried to get out from him even a piece of information - could it be possible that we knew each other? - I always was met with silence or obscure short sentences that looked like they were taken out of another dialogue - and out of that's conversation's context.

Mikey and Donnie told me not to worry about it, they told me that Leo is not trying to get out of answering me but that it is just how he is.

And that sometimes he gets the "bad days".

They would tell me that but I will see how they exchange glances between themselves after. I would hear their whispers "I thought he was getting so much better", "is he relapsing", "is being a leader of a bigger Hamato clan too much strain on him" and I would notice then keeping an extra eye on Leo. Yesterday they dragged him to watch a TV with them for his supposed "therapy".

Not very reassuring. If our leader would go all NPC on us, where would we be?

Still I wanted my answers about our past.  
And Leo refused to talk to me with the words.

Then I just have to make him talk in another language that we both know. With fists.

And I think this worked. In a way.  
It helped me to stop pestering Leo about our possible past.  
Gradually Leo stopped being all robot-like.

And we would fight.  
Leo always gave me quite a challenge. With Mikey or Donnie I usually knew who will win - me. But not with Leo.

And the way he fights... I should not have known his style. I never received any actual training and he was an official ninja. But I knew. And I knew counters to almost every move.

Our fights were more akin to dances.

Dances of moves I knew and that fact became one more piece for the puzzle of our past. Puzzle that began with my dreams.

So the thing with Leo was on hold for now. Until a new bit of puzzle would come up.

* * *

  
My favourite part of my new life is being night vigilantes.  
That was the best use of my skills that I could imagine. Fighting always came easy to me. Fighting and being the good guy? That's a dream come true.

I love days when I come home exhausted from a fight - my whole body thrumming from the energy I spent and my soul at peace, knowing today I did a good - a right - deed. That I helped to keep this city just that bit safer.

Yeah, that is the life!

* * *

  
Out of us four Don and Mikey were the most similar.  
Don't get me wrong, they were also a complete opposites - one is a loudmouth, if funny, idiot and another silent sarcastic type too smart for his own good.  
But...Take today for example.

With nothing to do I decided to go check if our local brainiac would have anything for me to do.

Since he wasn't at the garage I went to the lab.

I opened a door only to stop.

Whole room - and I mean everything: floor, benches, walls, ceiling - was covered in rows of tools and spare parts, items that he managed to scavenge. A few beakers were steaming, sheets with tiny parts marked on them laying in rows, some strange giant metallic parts popped on each other, wheels stacked by sizes, a whole rows of screwdrivers laid out on the table before some glass construction for chemicals.

"Hey, Dee, whatcha doin'?" I asked.

But I got no reply, turtle too absorbed in whatever he was doing to notice me.

I thought of coming over and tapping him on shoulder (or to poke his forehead I was undecided).

I took a careful step inside the room.  
Only for one of machines to produce a deafening BEEP at the same time.

With startled yelp I jumped and crashed in the table. With my shell to it in silence that came to be I heard as something started to move and crash one after another at the table.

Now THAT woke up our genius.

"What?" he looked up. "Raph, what.."

"Do ya have anything for me to do?" I blurted out interrupting him. I was not in mood for apologies.

"For you to do?" obviously his thoughts still were somewhere in his project. "No, I have nothing. Maybe go ask Mikey?"

"Sure, will do." I pushed myself from the table and went out of the lab wincing as I heard something else to shift and crash.

  
Obviously there was nothing for me to do.

When he is not in his room, Michelangelo domain is kitchen. He even had something of a job where he would sell his one-of-the-kind culinary creations. They bring a surprising amount of money.

I open kitchen door only to stop short. Tables, floor, walls and ceiling were covered in various bowls, kettles filled with something bubbling in them, plates with some obscure ingredients that I would never eat (are those eyeballs and glitter?), bundles of something I better not look too close at. In the middle of all this chaos our resident cook was sitting with his eyes closed and slowly spinning on bar chair.  
In hands he was holding various sticks - that I recognised as usual tree branches - and as I watched he bit into one and started thoroughly chew on it.

Obviously he was busy with coming up with some new recipe. I could only hope our next customer won't end up poisoned. Again.

The picture was eerily like one in the lab.

No way I am crashing into things for second time in row. I learned my lesson.

Quietly I backed away and closed the door.

 


	9. A Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Donatello's POV.

Yesterday we discovered that Leonardo can not read.

Wait, that came out wrong.

Yesterday by discovering that Leonardo can not read we discovered that he is blind.

How we did not notice that before beats me.  
Several months of having no idea that one of your clan brothers is completely blind... Leonardo is truly impressive to be able hide it so well.

To be fair through only his usual vision is gone. If he ever had it. He says he does not remember.

Meanwhile...  
His heat-vision is perfect.  
Better than perfect.  
He can even see through some walls!  
Talk about overcompensation.

As turtles we all have heat vision to a degree, but in all others it is very weak.  
My best guess is that to make up for the absence of usual vision Leonardo's heat vision got naturally cranked up well beyond any stats.

But...  
This explains how he manages to be so bad (just awful) with the kitchen appliances.  
They quite literally blind him with the heat they are emitting.  
Even our (poor poor) toaster.

I am so excited about this discovery! (It calls for more tests. How far does his vision go?)

* * *

I am pretty nervous about today. In a good way. And not only because of awaiting new interesting tests on Leonardo, oh no.

After over a month of working on it I managed to make my pet - Metalhead - into a fully remote-controlled droid! The idea came from rescuing Raphael. Now Metalhead would be able repeat every move that I ask to, not just a few pre-programmed sequence moves. And I will be able to see through his "eyes" and even feel what his receptors pick up. Remotely!

I am so excited about test drive I am going to make right now.

I hear my clan brothers gathered in the main room - today is a movie night.

I was already called twice.

And I am planning to attend it.

Just not in the flesh.  
They are going to be so surprised!  
(Just think of possibilities of what I will be able to do with a fully remote-controllable pet!)

* * *

Now is the time.  
I sit in my chair.  
Take a special headset. It is a helmet, covering my head fully. It has no visor, a black panel projects an image directly in my eyes instead. At the back there are connectors that would transmit to me feeling of artificial body instead of mine.

  
Huuuh. A calming breath and I put the helmet on.  
Then I turn it on.

And I wait.

Any moment now visuals would load. (I need to make loading time quicker.)  
Any moment now visuals would load and I will be able to see where to move.

Maybe something went wrong?

I wait.  
Any moment now I will see through Metalhead's eyes.

At first all I feel is cold. That means neuro-transmitters connected. Metalhead is in my - warm - lab so I should not feel any temperature difference, but I was anticipating there to be a change in a feeling so I disregarded this discrepancy.

Any moment now.

* * *

When image loaded I could not believe it.  
While my body - my feelings of touch, my smell, my hearing, my pain receptors - was connected to the helmet my lab...  
My beautiful, state-of art lab.. was blown up.

This was the only explanation that I could come up.

I was standing in what I recognise as remains of my lab.

Carefully, carefully, not to shift any debris and risk a rockfall I come out from the place that was my lab and into main room of the lair.

I choke on a sob.

The debris... pieces of cement cover the floor. Nothing of our lair was left. Just a space with piles of debris.

Dust from the columns and ceiling coming down already settled down and was covering everything in thick layer.

In the centre where my clan brothers were supposed to be gathered on a sofa was a pile of cement slabs, bricks and pipes.

Not a sound from my brothers just some water dipping in the corner.

Silence was eerie.

Choking on the air I hurried to the pile.  
With my metallic, more strong body I should be able to lift some of the weight.  
What if my brothers were buried alive under it?  
(I carefully tried not to think what would become of us - purely digital consciousnesses - if we were to die in our digital world. Unlike all other users we don't have a real world body to return to. Death. That was one test I did not want to run. Ever.)

No no no no no.  
I only just found them, I couldn't lose them!

I felt myself hyperventilating. A high pitched keen came out and I couldn't stop it.

I was shifting the slabs, throwing away the pipes, but my hands were clumsy and a cement block slipped out from them, setting down more heavily and shifting the whole pile.

Oh no no no no.  
I could not help a wail of pure panic as I saw that I - possibly, possibly - only made things worse.

My hands were shaking, and I could not, just could not...

Oh no no no.

* * *

Suddenly I was as if ripped away. Back into my body.

Before me was - an alive! - Mikey's face.

He was saying something, probably asking questions.

I did not care.

He was alive and right before me.

I did not care how it is possible, I threw myself on him. To hug. To feel that Mikey is real.

I rarely allow myself to express my emotions so clearly, but after shock I received I could not stop tears from running. Could not stop choking on sobs.

Over Mikey's shoulder I saw blurry figures of Raph and Leo hurrying towards us, their own questions on their lips.

I could only start crying harder.

I did not realise it before, but I with all my being did not want to lose brothers that I found after decades of surviving in this world alone.

The idea that they may to cease to exist just like that...

Trying to compose myself I looked around the lab. I was by my chair, Metalhead was exactly where it stood before I put on the helmet. The lab was untouched. Intact.

Nothing was blown up.

So what did I see?  
(That called for some tests. If I will be able to survive repeat of this.)

* * *

In the real world, in a long-abandoned lair a small half-rusty robot stood frozen before the pile of rocks it only just tried to desperately move away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Of course it is only beginning of their lifes - but it is the last chapter of this story. UwU  
> I hope you enjoyed reading the story!!! I loved writing it.  
> 


End file.
